There's always a man, There's always a cabin, There's always a path
by TheThingsIWillRegret
Summary: Robert is confused, he has been here before, at least he thinks - either way, he knows whatever way he goes; he'll find the way.


Robert blinked blankly. The trees around him seemed to dance mockingly at his confusion. This was certainly _not_ new. He feels he has been here before, almost so many times he named the trees, every blade of grass, even the stars glistening in the night sky. Yet he doesn't remember the names he has given them. He is unsure if he ever even did. He has no solid proof, just a panging feeling of deja vu. He feels blood trickling down from his right nostril and he wipes it away hastily.

Robert hesitates for a second when he remembers what he has done before. At least, he thinks he has done before. Robert stares down at his feet, then straight ahead into the obscure darkness. He is unsure if whether to follow the route his "past self" had taken, or to _make his own_. He swears he can hear a nagging sarcastic voice in the distance. "Constants and variables," he says outloud. More confused on the fact that he _knew_ what it meant, than not. Robert decides to go left, ignoring the right path he had "taken before".

If "constants and variables" were to be trusted, it makes him wonders how many times he had taken right, how many times he had gone left, the number of times he decided upon straight, and the times he said screw it and went backwards (presumably where he came from.) Maybe there were even times he died on the spot. Robert chuckles at the thought. He remembers nothing, where he came from, where he is, and even why he is and what he is. All he knows is that death is a constant, or maybe its a variable - Robert isn't sure.

Eventually, Robert stumbles upon a red-brick pathway. He finds it strange on how he knows its red due to his limited vision, but he knows he actually doesn't find it odd at all. Robert continues his journey, this time down the path, that leads to an old cabin. A familiar old cabin that appears to be glowing like the moon, or maybe it was the bright lights that illuminated from the inside. Approaching the entrance, he hesitates _not,_ and knocks on the ratty wooden door in code. A code he doesn't remember learning, but a code he knows he needed to enter. It was much like a normal knock, but not exactly.

Robert waited in silence. The bright lights from the inside seeped through small holes on the walls and on the door. It was tempting to peep through one of them, but Robert knew better and remained patient. Soon enough he heard the lock be removed, but the door remained shut. Either way, it was an invitation.

Robert reached for the handle, twisting it, before gently pushing the door open. The creaking was agonizing and Robert almost regretted the decision, but Robert wanted to let _him_ know that he was coming in and that he meant no harm. He wasn't sure on who _he_ was exactly, but Robert knew _he_ was inside. When the door was fully wide, allowing view of the inside, Robert immediately noticed that there was, in fact, no lights or candles or anything that can possibly make a cabin glow brightly like it was before. The second thing he noticed, was that the cabin was not a cabin, but an office.

However, _h__e_ was there, further into the desolate office and surrounded with empty bottles of whiskey and rum. Robert took a moment to observe the obviously intoxicated man. _His _face was out of view, for it was face down on his desk next to an ashtray on his right filled with burnt out cigarettes.

A toy sitting in the middle of the room caught Robert's attention. A doll more like, with brown plastic hair, blue cross-eyes, and red lipstick. He approached the doll and wrapped his fingers around its waist, bringing it near his face for closer observation.

"Are you the one?", he heard a female voice ask. At the sound of her voice his grip on the doll loosened and it dropped to the ground, head separating from body. His gaze followed the sound of the voice, only to land on a tall woman with eyes who tell a story of a trip to both heaven and hell. Her mussed hair and ripped clothes confirmed his theory. "Am I what?", he asked with a raised brow. "The one," she repeated. "I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about," he told the girl who inched closer to him. "Tell me, have you ever heard of a city in the sky?", she questioned. Robert was ready to retort, when suddenly his vision blurred and he almost lost his footing. "Your nose is bleeding," she said more mockingly than she should have. _She knew something he didn't. _

_ "_Who are you?", he asked the smirking women, who after his question, frowned deeply. Her eyes narrowed, not at Robert, but at _him_. "Someone who's tired of seeing and knowing," she dodged expertly. "No name then, okay. Then tell me this, what is it that you want from me?" The women let her gaze land back on Robert. "Give us the girl, wipe away the dept," She chanted. Robert was instantly hit by a strong wave of nausea. He feel to his knees, hands gripping at his head in a weak attempt to make it stop.

Suddenly, he remembered_ everything. _Comstock, Booker, Rosalind, a machine, THE machine, and Anna - mainly Anna."Anna," he pants out. "You're Anna," he repeats, then stares up at her in disbelief. "But ho-," he began, but was cut off by "That's a stupid question." He nodded at her response. It was stupid, he knew why. His eyes trailed down from her face to her tattered shirt, until' he caught sight of her pinky - her _missing_ pinky.

"Of course," he breathed out. He was awed at the realization that Anna didn't need a machine to open tears. "You can see behind the doors at your own will," he stated. Anna smirked at Robert, "So can you," she said. "Except you can literally be _everywhere_," she added. Robert sighed out deeply, "I died," he stated somberly. "No, not dead. Better than alive. Now, you can fix what you've done wrong," she corrected. Robert nodded, getting up to his feet, and straightening his suit and tie. "Then what are we waiting for."

**Authors note: Okay so a couple of things. I know I probably didn't do a good job at writing Robert or for that matter Elizabeth. Also I'm using the knowledge I have on all Bioshock's combined - including burial under sea, but this short story might have plot holes because holy shit have you played that game I still have headaches when I think about it. I tried my best - please don't kill me.**


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